


Locked Up

by Asynca



Series: Ready, Set, Go! - Speed Prompts [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7390996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Junkrat traps Tracer, Widowmaker unexpectedly drops in. Speed prompt, written in 41 minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked Up

 

* * *

I nearly had him! I knew Watchpoint like the back of my hand—I could have zipped around this place with my eyes closed and not bumped into anything—and so I'd followed that Einstein-haired, crazy-eyed Aussie halfway across the map until I had him cornered in the observation deck. I was just mentally trying to plan my path around the room so I wouldn't get exploded by one of those bouncing-ticking-bomb-thingies he was always lobbing about as I blinked in when I heard a loud _snap_! and before I felt it—because _oh boy did I feel it_ —I realised I was stuck. Oh no!

"Well, lookie here."

I lookied there, and that skinny old ugly Junkrat-guy was leaning oh-so casually against Winston's table laughing a few times like he was completely mental and pointing his launcher-thing at me.

Actually, now that I thought on it, I hadn't followed him here, had I? He'd _led_ me here. _Bollocks_! I had my blasters aimed at him, but he'd kill me first if we fired at each other. My teammates would never even find my body if he killed me all the way up here. They wouldn't hear me shout, either—not that our comms would reach that far.

He was completely mad, though. Like, absolutely bonkers: maybe he wouldn't kill me after all? Maybe he just wanted to muck around with me a little?

"Let's have a good look at you, then, shall we?" he said, and _giggled_ right up at the top of his voice like he was imitating a girl. His hair was singed from fire and his face was half-blackened with soot and he was _creepy as hell_. The giggling was the worst of it.

"You're _tiny_!" he told me, like it wasn't something I didn't already know. "You're almost not even worth the 140 grams of nitro I've got in one of these babies, it'd be like… like blowing up a blowfly with a grenade!" He giggled at the thought of it.

"Yeah, I wouldn't want you to waste a good bomb on me," I told him, thinking maybe I _wasn't_ going to die after all.

His giggle suddenly degenerated into a full on like evil cackle and then he shouted, "But I've never blown up a blowfly with a grenade before! Maybe it's _awesome_!"

His finger closed on the trigger while I started _screaming_ —it's not like I'm chicken or anything, but you have to understand it's actually pretty scary being murdered by a psychopath—but when the trigger closed it sounded like the clean round of a rifle, not a makeshift grenade-launching thing.

He'd stopped laughing, and a single stream of blood rolled down between his eyes. One of his ticking bombs rolled to the other side of the room, dinged, and exploded as he fell.

Behind him, _Widowmaker_ was lowering her gun.

What on…?

We stared at each other for a moment. Her eyebrows were lowered.

"But…" I began, confused. "He's on _your_ team."

She didn't say anything, but impassively raised her rifle again.

I honestly seriously thought she was going to kill me as well—heaven knows she'd tried often enough, and I had no bloody idea what was going on—and so I jammed my eyes shut, expecting to head another round go off and to end up like _he_ had. When the shot fired again, the trap around my leg sprung open so violently than half of it clattered across the room.

_Then_ she put her rifle down and walked over to me, her heels clicking on the lino floor. "Can you walk?" she asked me, poker-faced as she looked me up and down.

I gingerly tested my leg. "I think so?"

She nodded, and for a moment, we stared at each other. Or, rather, I gaped at her.

She'd _saved_ me.

It was so much to take in. It was something _Amelie_ would have done, and for just a tiny little moment I thought that maybe it _was_ her. Maybe she was all locked up inside this pale-skinned assassin, maybe she wasn't gone forever? "Thank you… Amelie."

Her face _hardened_ immediately like I'd slapped her really hard. "It's ' _Widowmaker_ '," she hissed, and then fired a couple of rounds at my feet so I had to jump backwards. "It's 'Widowmaker'!"

God, though, it really felt like she was in there, otherwise why would she have saved me?

"Well," I said, swallowing. "Thank you for saving me, anyway."

She didn't acknowledge that I'd said it, she just nudged Junkrat's body with the long nose of her sniper rifle. "I'm going to tell him he got in the way of my shot," she said neutrally, and then turned, fired her grapple and shot right on out of the window she'd come from.


End file.
